‘So do you write it in English?’

Still, Laurianne asked, even if we’ve known each other for sometime.

She meant this column, posing the question to me, as we zipped through time lost since three years ago, at the Pacific Centre food court downtown, where we had bumped into each other.

I’ve encountered the same reaction not a few times, though most politely fall silent, even as some would gush, when I claim it’s been our “official tongue”—since 116 years ago, isn’t it?

We, Filipinos, take it for granted, indeed, and have even used it in tourist texts as an added come on, haven’t we? Yet, though our next-door neighbor, a Russian-Canadian, who, with her family, traveled to Palawan, had nothing but awe about their experience in “paradise,” she revealed, in a rather guarded tone, how misunderstandings over the menu had marred a couple of dinners.

And Dianne, another neighbor from Atlantic Canada, to whom I’ve recommended Filipino cleaners, often got into tangles with Marilen over instructions and schedules.

A former school teacher in Iloilo, whom I had thought could be a perfect match for Dianne, also a teacher, she would unknowingly mess up a day, when Dianne forgot my advice to limit her use of idiomatic phrases like “toss out” or “get rid of” instead of “throw” or “discard,” stick to simple subject and predicate, and avoid past or future perfect tenses.

Mulling over this, Laurianne, again, reminded me how second-language learners trip on a vacuum where it must be lived. True, for most Filipinos, as proven with successes, especially here in North America, we have an edge over other countries, but if former teach ers and other professionals, who had switched to caregiving, blue-collar and low-level jobs, reach Canada, and with their weak proficiency in English bared, a review of how it’s taught might be helpful.

A news item my sister read about how language teaching in the Philippines might revert or has already reverted to an emphasis on regional dialects—quite a regression, I think—would be sad, where other Asians have since looked up to the Philippines for learning English. Where she works with other Asians, who, in spite of their scientific and technical skills, would grope through the intricacies of English usage such as number, tense, mood and nuance, she confessed that only now does she value how she had grappled with lessons on them—add to these, phonics, which for many would take a few years to polish.

The meeting with Laurianne might have been accidental, but not how our thoughts about language have always braided. The topic has been quite worrisome, stalking some Filipinos who expect a sibling or relative to apply with ease, under Canada’s Federal Skilled Worker Program (FSWP). New rules have not only lowered age limit from 49 to 35, but notably in reshuffling the same 100 points where an applicant may still pass at 67, but especially language proficiency, which has been allocated the highest at 28 points.

Resumed after it was frozen for review, improvements in the FSWP based on research, as announced at Canada’s Immigration and Citizenship (CIC) website, “ has consistently shown that language proficiency and youth are two of the most important factors in the economic success of immigrants…” Lower points include educational degrees earned abroad like in the Philippines, which is why Filipinos who fail to pursue further studies here or fail in proficiency tests, end up in service industries such as retail and food chains, as tallied in statistics.

We had just met one, a Filipina behind the Subway counter, who dutifully took our sandwich orders but got stalled when we picked our vegetables; by switching some for the other, did we alter her “script?” The Subway girl seemed still thoughtful, when we turned to get to our table, skirting around Laurianne’s real thoughts, which must have really prompted her to ask me again, if indeed, I write in English.